


Band-aid

by ToyBoxOfSuz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bittersweet, Bromance, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Kid Fic, Kid!Scott, Kid!Stiles, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-02
Packaged: 2017-12-16 21:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToyBoxOfSuz/pseuds/ToyBoxOfSuz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott might not be the brightest seven year old in school. He's definitely not the luckiest one.</p><p>Then they move and he ends up in a class with the weirdest boy ever and learns what Pokémon is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Band-aid

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before Scott's dad was being introduced, so I just went with some wild guesses.

Scott might not be the brightest seven year old in school, but his mother said he’s trying hard. He had no idea what that means, but he’s okay with it. He’s not doing much, really. He goes to school then comes home. His mother said he’s a good boy and so smart that he can walk home alone now. Because he’s such a big boy. But Scott didn’t feel anything like that. He just liked to be called a big boy. He had a key to their house, but he had no clue why when his dad was always home.

Sometimes, on his way home, he took the longer road so he arrived a bit later. Sometimes when he got home his father would ask how school was and he couldn’t answer because really, nothing happens in school, and then he would yell at him. Not always. But sometimes. In those times he smelled foul and his eyes were strange.

He would yell with his mother too, even if she was talking to him about her day. So Scott didn’t understand why he’s yelling. She was yelling too after a while.

And then one day his mother came for him after school and Scott was happy because it meant they will go and eat ice cream together with dad. But dad wasn’t there. In fact, in the car, his mother turned to him and told him how they will live with her friend for a while. She was smiling, but her eyes were watery and there was bruise on her cheek. Scott asked her if she was boxing and she was laughing and said:

“Yes, honey, and I knocked the fucker out.” She was proud, and Scott was happy, because he could yell the ‘f’ word all the way back to the stranger’s house.

His mother was not talking about his father anymore, and when Scott asked where he was, and why can’t they go home, she can’t answer. From then on his mother took him to school and brought him home. One day, when he was waiting for her at the school entrance, his father walked up to him. Scott was happy because it was a long time since he had seen him and he was smiling and gave him the coolest matchbox. He asked Scott if he wanted to go home and Scott said yes. He wanted to sleep in his room again and play with his toys. But his mother arrived and grabbed his arm and it hurt as she yanked him away from his father. He dropped the matchbox and started crying. He could hear his parents shouting with each other and it was scary, and he couldn’t seem to calm down when he was sitting in the car with his mother.

He never saw his father after that. He knew he called sometimes but his mother never let him speak to him. In these times he cried and sulked and didn’t eat.

They moved next month.

To Beacon Hills.

It was so different from everything. It smelled new and scary but his mother said he won’t cough that much here. It wasn’t a big city and the air was cleaner. Scott didn’t understand because he was always coughing.

On their way to their house they stopped at the gas station for gas and a newspaper.

“Do you want some candy?” his mother asked in a gentle tone and of course Scott wanted candy. He jumped out of the car and waited for his mother to take his hand so they could walk to the shop and he could pick the hugest chocolate bar he could find.  They walked up to the counter, and he wanted to put the chocolate on the counter, so he tiptoed and slipped the candy where the counter person can see it. He could hear his mother and the man chuckle and his mother praised him how big a boy he was. Then the automatic door opened and a kid ran inside the shop pushing over the newspaper stand.

The man by the counter groaned as if he would know the boy.

The little boy ran up to the counter and pushed Scott’s mother away so he can stand before her and Scott knew it was very rude and he wanted to kick the boy. He was the same age as him but a little shorter so he had to jump to slam a crumpled dollar on it.

“Gimme the Pokémon cards!” he shouted.

“Oh, hey there little guy. Where are your parents?” his mother started and as the mother she was she immediately put a gentle hand on the kid’s head to get his attention. The boy looked up at her but only for a second and from then on he ignored her. Scott frowned because this boy was very rude!

But then someone shouted and when Scott looked, the coolest looking person hurried over to them. He was like a cowboy! He must have been a cowboy! But his mother told him later that he was the sheriff of the town.

The cowboy greeted them in a short manner before he scooped up the rude boy and took back the money he put on the counter. He was angry but not in the way Scott’s father was angry. It was a different kind of angry. He wasn’t shouting.

He shook the kid and told him not to run off alone, and how rude he was but Scott couldn’t really make it all out because the boy was shouting and screaming all the time. Then the cowboy tucked the boy under his arm and apologized. The boy was screaming and trashing against him but the cowboy didn’t even budge. Scott’s mother let them cut in front of her because they seemed to be in a hurry as they paid for gas but not for Pokémon cards. When they left, Scott was sure that the boy will be hanged because cowboys do that with bad people. He felt sorry for him somehow.

“Mom, can I have Pokémon cards too?” he asked then, making his mother laugh. Especially that neither of them knew what the hell ‘pokémon’ was.

On his first day of school Scott was nervous. He’d gotten introduced, he told his name but no one wanted to talk to him, and he didn’t know what to say to others. He didn’t have the same toys as them; he had no idea what they were talking about most of the time. He was crying when his mother came to pick him up. She said not to give up, because he is a big boy and a smart boy, and that he will have better luck next day.

Next day was worse. Scott said something stupid that made the whole class laugh at him. That day he asked his mother if he was stupid and she said he was just slower than others. Scott had no idea what that meant. After a week of going to school he felt like drowning. He asked his mother when they will go back home and his mother didn’t answer. Then he asked if his father will come back and she got angry and sent him to his room.

Scott’s second week in school started out strangely. Apparently his class wasn’t whole because they had a missing student who had been sick. He came back that day and his desk was next to Scott’s and he was the kid from the gas station.

And he was weird.

He would stand up during class and run around his desk. Or he would clap his hands randomly or jump on his chair and he didn’t get detention for it. They just told him to get back to his seat. But it really bugged Scott because he was loud and annoying. In the breaks between classes he would run around the playground shouting from the top of his lungs. He fell a few times, grazing his knees or elbows and one time he grazed his chin too. That was funny. Scott sat on a bench and watched him. If he would try and run like that he would start coughing and he didn’t like that because it was scary and painful.

In their last class that day they had to draw their family. Scott wondered if he should draw his father and in the end he decided to draw him too. He was halfway through the picture when he noticed that the weird boy was standing by his desk and was watching him draw. Scott frowned and tried to hide it from him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked grumbling.

“Let me see!” the boy insisted and ran to the other side of his desk so he could look at his drawing. Scott pouted at him, he didn’t want to talk to him, he was weird. No one was talking to him because he was strange. But in the end he moved his hand from the picture to show him, maybe he would leave then. The boy leaned over the drawing to look at it for a moment then before Scott knew it a blue crayon was leaving huge circles all over the picture. He gasped and tried to push the boy away but the damage was already done.

“Why did you do that?!” he asked angrily and jumped from his seat and tackled the boy. He kicked Scott and he hit him.

The teacher separated them and they had to go to the principal’s office. They called their parents too. Scott didn’t understand why he was a bad boy, it was his picture that got ruined he just gave the boy what he deserved but no one listened and he was crying once again.

When they were waiting for his mother and his father to come out of the principal’s office, Scott looked over at the boy.

“What’s your name?” he asked grumbling. The boy shrugged and just continued swaying his legs from the chair.

“Something Stillllleeeenskeee right?” Scott tried but the boy still ignored him. Which was weird because he was so interested ruining his drawing not long ago. “Why did you draw on my picture?” Scott asked. “You’re stupid.”

“You’re stupid.” was the boy’s only answer.

Scott’s mother came out of the office and took his hand to take him home. She wasn’t as angry as Scott expected it.

“He drew on my picture!” he said pointing at the boy, who was still sitting there as they were walking away.

“I know, honey.” his mother smiled at him a bit strangely. Scott didn’t understand. As they walked he looked back at his classmate who’s father was crouching next to his chair now. Scott didn’t hear what he said but the next moment the boy started to throw a fit. He was screaming and trashing again just like when Scott had first seen him. “Scott, Scott.” He heard his mother’s voice and looked up at her as they were walking to the car. “Your classmate’s sick.”

“But he’s not sick he’s coming to school now.” Scott said frowning because that didn’t make sense.

“He’s sick in a different way.” His mother told him patiently. “You noticed he’s doing strange things, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s because he’s sick, he can’t help it.” Scott pouted because he believed that his mother was angry at him and blamed him while that boy was the one who did wrong. He was rude and he was weird, and they just lied about his sickness so he could do what he wanted. “What he did was wrong, yes. But try not to stay too mad at him for it. Maybe he did it because he wants to be your friend?”

“But I don’t want to be his friend.” Scott said stubbornly.

His mother sighed but didn’t press on the issue more.

The next day the boy didn’t come to school. But the next he did and he was just as strange and annoying as before. Especially when he decided to bother Scott during lunch break.

“See, this is my Gameboy.” he said and sat next to him. “I play Pokémon on it. See. This is my Gameboy.”

Scott moved away from him, trying to eat his sandwich in peace.

“See, I got Charmander, see?” the boy followed him and pushed the screen under his nose. He was familiar with a few Pokémon from the pack of cards he’d gotten but that was all. He didn’t get their purpose. “See, you can fight with other Pokémon, you can fight with Pidgey, see? I’m gonna win, because it’s just Level 8 but my Charmander is Level 10 and stronger. I’m not going to catch it because I already have a Pidgey.”

Scott watched as the battle was going. He had no idea what he was watching, all he knew was that it was awesome.

“I have a Pidgey of my own too, my own Pidgey in my team.” the boy said as he was staring at the screen and playing the game.

The next break the boy sat on the bench with Scott and Scott watched as he was playing.

The next day Scott brought his one pack of Pokémon cards and gave it to the boy.

From then on Scott was watching as the boy was playing Pokémon in almost every break between classes. He was still strange and weird, and jumped up during class and sometimes he was running around the playground and he left Scott with his Gameboy to play.

Sometimes Scott ran with him and he ended up coughing, but it was fun.

Scott still couldn’t say either of the boy’s names but he was trying hard and ended up with a silly name for him. When the boy’s father first heard it he laughed and the boy looked at Scott with the most serious expression he had ever seen on him and told him that he must call him that from now on. Scott couldn’t understand why but _Stiles_ said it was because it made his father laugh.

He called him Stiles from then on, and everyone was laughing at the name, but Stiles didn’t care because he will be a Pokémon master anyway. Scott couldn’t understand. But at least he could call him by a name.

They played a lot. They ran. Stiles jumped and ran a lot and he always had band-aids on his forehead or knees or elbows. He’d say it doesn’t hurt. Scott realized he never cried when he falls. But he was screaming and trashing around when he didn’t like something. Scott still didn’t get why he was sick but he didn’t care anymore.

“Scott, Scott, we’re friends now right?” Stiles asked him one day when they were out to hunt down trolls, because Stiles said he had seen a few in their garden. Scott blinked at Stiles.

“Yes.” he said nodding.

And they were friends. Nothing changed, but Scott somehow felt better about coming to Beacon Hills. He wasn’t alone anymore and they weren’t laughing that much at him now. Stiles was still strange. Scott asked about his father less and less. And it started to feel like home again.

One day Stiles came over after school because his father was working and Scott’s mother offered to help babysit him. Scott didn’t mind because they could play more and Scott could show Stiles his room and their backyard. Stiles said they have a clean, troll-free garden so they had to settle with playing Power Rangers and fighting the invisible enemy. Until Stiles had to go and scrape his knee again on their porch. Scott didn’t think much of it, and Stiles wasn’t crying either as he got back on his feet, but Scott’s mother had seen it all.

“Oh, sweetie, does it hurt?” she asked as she hurried over to the boy. “We should clean that if you want to continue playing.” she said and took Stiles’ hand to bring him in the house. Scott noticed how Stiles suddenly looked less fidgety and almost scared. Scott was sure he would throw a fit, but he didn’t.

Scott’s mother made Stiles sit on the bathroom counter as she cleaned his bruise. She told him how active a little boy he was and how brave he was because he didn’t cry when he fell. Stiles was too silent as he was looking at something on the floor. Scott stood next to them and watched Stiles. He told him that his mommy was a nurse which meant she heals everyone and she will heal his knee too. But Stiles didn’t react, he was barely moving.

Scott frowned a little. Then tugged on his mother’s sleeve.

“Mom, use the special band-aid.” he told her.

“The special one?” she smiled at him with an eyebrow raised. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yes.” Scott nodded and turned to Stiles. “The special band-aid makes it better faster.” he explained to Stiles. His mother took the ‘special band-aids’ from the cupboard and covered Stiles’ knee with one. It was blue with ninjas all over it. “Kiss it too or it won’t work.” Scott nagged his mother who chuckled and pecked the bruised spot on Stiles’ knee.

“It will be alright now, little man.” she smiled and stroked Stiles’ short hair before she helped him off the counter. The boy still didn’t say anything.

That moment their doorbell rang.

“It must be your father.” Scott’s mother smiled and went to open the door. The two kids didn’t move from the bathroom. Scott started to worry that something was wrong; maybe Stiles had broken his knee or something.

“Stiles?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. The boy didn’t answer him, just slowly crouched down. Scott crouched too for some reason.

Stiles’ eyes were wet and before Scott knew it he started crying. Scott frowned. Stiles never cried about his knee before, actually, he never cried. Ever. It wasn’t a tantrum or a fit, it was loud, messy crying. Scott didn’t understand what had happened, all he knew was that he shouldn’t move or say anything. He didn’t know what to say anyway. He was watching as Stiles cried and rubbed his eyes with his messy hands.

A few minutes later Stiles’ father was standing in the bathroom door looking shocked. Scott wondered why that was. The cowboy-sheriff slowly knelt down next to them and put his huge hand on Stiles’ back.

“It’s okay, son.” he told him and Scott got a strange feeling in his stomach from it. It was a long time he had seen his own father. “It’s okay.” The sheriff repeated and ever so slowly took Stiles into his arms and lifted him up.

Scott noticed his mother standing in the bathroom door too and she looked like she wanted to cry too but she was smiling. The sheriff held Stiles tightly for a few minutes, but he didn’t stop crying, but somehow his father didn’t try to stop him. He had a faint smile on his face too as he glanced down at Scott and tousled his hair. Then they left.

Years later Scott learned that that was the first time Stiles had cried after his mother’s death.

That night Scott asked about his father for the last time. The next morning in school Stiles was still wearing the band-aid Scott’s mother had given him. He told Scott it really makes it heal faster.

From then on Scott was always there for Stiles: when he couldn’t breathe, when he was whining for a Nintendo, when he gave a living toad to the love of his life and she screamed and they got detention again.

And Stiles was always there when Scott couldn’t breathe, when he had problems with math or when he was walking home confused after turning into a werewolf for the first time in his life, and realized that they are really deep in something scary and dark. Stiles was always there, and he always will be.


End file.
